Choices
by Pippa Spark
Summary: Is Kestrel really gone forever? What will Bowman do if she isn't? What lifechanging role does Pinto have yet to play? Why am I asking all these questions I know answers to? Set directly after 'Firesong'. On hiatus - too many fics, not enough time D:
1. A Broken Family

**Author's note:**** This fic. is set directly after the third book in 'The Wind on Fire' trilogy. Like everything I write, the story starts off slow. Please bear with me.**

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own any of the characters or locations etc. (sadly). The only thing that is mine is the plot.**

*****

The day had been wonderful, but long. Night was falling. In the dim evening light, Bowman Hath left the newly-weds' celebrations to find his father.

Hanno Hath was nowhere to be found. As the bride's father, he had attended the wedding, and the beginning of the party that ensued. Naturally, he had been very happy to see his daughter, Pinto, marry such a great friend as Mumpo.

Bowman knew that his father had been happy at the time of the wedding, earlier that day. But he couldn't help feeling that the darkness of night had brought a cloud of sadness into his father's heart. Bowman knew that it was hard to accept that all the joy of seeing Pinto marry was being experienced only by her father and brother. Pinto's mother, Ira, and sister, Kestrel, had both died for the sake of their people two years ago.

Bowman could tell that he would find his father at the cemetery, where he so often went to reflect on the things of the past.

_Cheer up Bo; _exclaimed Kestrel, _Pinto got married today! I saw her!_

It wasn't entirely true that all links had been cut between Bowman and his twin sister. He and Kestrel had always had an emotional bond that ran so deep that they could communicate telepathically. Ira may have gone for ever, but Kestrel was still tied to this world via her brother.

_Did you see Pinto get married with your own eyes, Kess? _asked Bowman, _or did you see through mine?_

_Neither, _replied Kestrel, _I can hear your thoughts, but I can't actually visualise anything. Or can I? It's hard, you know. I guess being me is like being blind, or something. I've been stripped of all senses, except hearing. I can hear _you.

_Are you saying that you're sort of, well, floating about in limbo…?_ Bowman had never had this sort of conversation with his sister before. He'd never wanted to. What if it had turned out that she was some sort of a figment of his imagination? A living memory – if such a thing exists? He didn't think he would've been able to bear it.

_Limbo? Maybe, if that's what you want to call it. I'd have a look around and check for you, but sadly, I can't._

Bowman was used to Kestrel's dry sense of humour, but this smart remark seemed to have had some bitterness mixed in with it.

Kestrel continued.

_I don't have a body. I'm not really anything. It's kind of like the way we used to talk to each other, telepathically, only this time, you're the receiver, only there's nothing on the other end._

_That doesn't make any sense, _retorted Bowman, as he trod the narrow path to the cemetery. Was that his father standing near one of the graves? _You're definitely something._

_Are you sure?_

_Stop talking like that. Of course you're something._

_If only I was. I really wish things could be as they used to._

Bowman sighed as he approached Hanno Hath. He was crying. _Don't we all._

*********

**So that's chapter one. As I mentioned before, this is a slow start but things will get more interesting later. Please review so that I know if this is worth continuing.**

**And for future reference, via reviewing or my poll (visit my profile) or whatever, please tell me if you prefer Kestrel or Bowman…your opinions could change this fic.!**

**Thanks!**


	2. Hope in a Graveyard

**I ACTUALLY UPDATED!!! **

**Anyway…story. :P**

*****

"Pa?" Bowman addressed his father in a questioning tone.

Hanno Hath spun around.

"Oh…Bowman…you shouldn't have come after me…I'm f-fine." His voice quavered on the last word.

Bowman sat down wordlessly in front of his mother's grave. He ran his hand along the rounded edge of the cold stone tablet. Moss had grown on it over the course of the past eight years, and it had become so dense that the words engraved on the stone were barely visible.

"_Here lies Ira Hath – wife, mother, and prophetess. The leader of the Manth people. The founder of the Homeland. You will live on forever in your people's memories. May you body and soul rest in peace."_

Hanno sat down on the damp earth next to Bowman, who placed a hand on his shoulder. "She is at peace, Pa."

Hanno wiped the tears from his face with the coarse fabric of his sleeve. "I know she is, Bowman. Her time had come. But Kestrel? She had her whole life ahead of her."

Their gazes turned in unison to a smaller grave, set of to the left-hand side of the graveyard.

"She was so young." Hanno continued. "To lose Ira was hard enough, but to lose Kestrel as well? It broke my h-heart." His voice cracked, and he shed silent tears yet again.

There were tears in Bowman's eyes too.

"Yours wasn't the only heart that was broken, Pa."

Hanno regained control of his emotions before speaking. He fiddled with a stick lying on the ground, not looking at Bowman.

"I know you miss her. She was your twin."

Bowman glanced over at his father. "She still is my twin, Pa, and she always will be", he said strongly.

"Yes, Bo, she always will be your twin," replied Hanno soothingly, "but it's still hard to believe that she is completely gone from our world."

"Well, I think the emotion of the moment is what's keeping her quiet right now, but she was talking to me on the way down here. She can't be completely gone, because I still talk to her."

Hanno raised his head to look Bowman in the eye. The expression on his face was one of astonishment. He stared silently a Bowman, as if still trying to understand what his son had just revealed to him.

This time it was Bowman who looked away. He toyed with the elaborate embroideries on the wide sleeve of his robe. Since becoming a leader of the Gang, he'd been made to wear clothes suited to his position. He was the Lord of a Million Souls. He was looked up to and respected. His word was law. His authority was unquestioned.

Bowman began to speak.

"When you rule an empire, you have to be strong" he said, sighing. "You have to be responsible, and you have to live up to your duty." He kept his eyes lowered, and continued in a very quiet voice. "It's hard to be a good ruler when you think you're going mad."

He paused, as if waiting for his father to say something, but Hanno remained silent. A bird chirped. Hanno waited for his son to continue. He appeared patient, but was almost bursting with curiosity.

Bowman took a breath, and kept talking, all the while staring at the soft grass beneath him.

"After Kess died, I couldn't believe it. I even began to wish we had simply stayed in Aramanth. At least when we were there, we were together. I just wanted her to be here again. When I started hearing her voice in my head, like old times, I thought I must be going mad with grief. It was scary, thinking I was losing my mind. It made ruling an empire even more difficult."

"But why didn't you tell me?" Hanno blurted out, uncharacteristically interrupting Bowman.

"I couldn't, Pa! I didn't want you all to think I was going crazy! I was so afraid that you'd treat me differently…or that you'd tell me I was truly going mad. I was afraid to hear the truth, and I was ashamed. Anyway, Sisi and I live so far away from all of you now. I didn't feel close enough to you to tell you, and I didn't want to cause you any more problems or pain. Please forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive. In the past you would've shared your fears with Kestrel. Now…well, now, you are more alone. However, she seems to still be with us, in some telepathic way. So you have worked out that you're not going mad?"

"I figured that out a while ago now. When I had calmed down and begun to accept the death, and I was still hearing voices, I chose to think of it as a good thing. At least I can still talk to Kess." He finished with a defensive tone, as if daring his father to disagree with his thoughts on the telepathic communications.

Hanno's response surprised him.

"If you can still communicate with Kestrel, there may be a chance that she is still alive – although she is dead physically. The emotional bond that you two shared has kept her tied to this world."

Hanno wore a strange little smile.

Bowman felt his heart jump into his throat, and wondered at how he dared ask the question that could change everything.

"Does this mean…are you saying…are you thinking that…that Kess could come back?"

"Come back?" Hanno seemed to contemplate the thought. "You are asking if I am saying that Kestrel can be stolen from death itself?"

Bowman held his breath.

"Yes, my son. That is exactly what I mean."


	3. The Bloodstained Book

**So…for the people who actually read this (and I have reader traffic, I know you're there :P), I have updated. Guys, please review or PM or something. I am sorry to bug you, but writing this fic. has become a little uninspiring: I feel like I'm talking to a brick wall. **

*****

"Pa?" cried Bowman as Hanno leapt up, unusually agile for a man of his age.

"Pa!" Bowman called, as his father dashed towards the little cemetery, back towards the main village.

Hope had given Hanno wings. Bowman had troubled keeping up, and twice nearly fell as he sprinted down the narrow path after his father. Completely out of breath he was relieved when his father stopped running.

"The library?" questioned Bowman, when he recognised the building in front of him. But he was speaking to thin air. Hanno had already vanished inside.

Bowman pushed open the heavy wooden door, and followed him.

The library was made up mainly of the writings of the Manth people: their stories, legends, and recounts of their journeys. It was also made up of texts given to the Manth people as a gift from Sisi's wealthy connections. However, the books that Hanno Hath was most interested in were the ones saved from the Mastery.

The Mastery had been a place filled with amazing things, a place that catered for all, despite its cruelty. Hanno had salvaged some of the rarer texts from the impressive library as it burned. They were now here in the homeland.

Bowman found his father rummaging through the shelves on the far side of the library. Not many people read these books. Could this be out of fear? No one particularly wanted to be reminded of certain things.

"Ah!" exclaimed Hanno. "Here we have it."

He tugged a book gently out of its place, unsettling a thick layer of dust. Hanno pulled a small cloth out of his pocket, and wiped the cover of the heavy tome. The title etched onto the hard cover was so faint that it could no longer be read. Ages had fallen out of the book; the remaining ones had rounded edges, and some were crumbling. The book even had a dark red stain on the spine which looked horribly like blood.

Now Bowman knew why nobody read these books.

Still holding the book, Hanno beckoned to Bowman, ad they sat down together at a small reading table by the edge of the shelves.

Hanno leafed carefully through the book's many pages as Bowman looked on. Eventually, the librarian stopped and smoothed out the chosen page. Both he and Bowman began to read.

_Some believe that a place exists between life and death. Not much is known about it, so it can't be said that any theory about it is entirely correct. However, it is believed that upon the death of a being, if there is a very strong bond (physical, emotional, etc.) tying them to this earth, they will live on. This is to say that their mind will live on, despite the lack of a body._

_Many have wondered if they can be brought back. Myths are often told in which a being comes back to life. Real occurrences have been so rare that they themselves have been transformed into legends. Naturally, some doubt that these legends were even true in the first place. There are records of people having tried – and failed – to bring back lost souls. There are also records of rituals that have gone horribly wrong._

_This brings us to the ritual. The secret of _how_ it actually works is unknown – however, the way the ritual is performed can be found below…_

Bowman risked a glance at his father.

"Would you really risk everything to have Kestrel return?" Hanno asked Bowman softly.

The reply was "I'd never be able to live with myself if I didn't try."


	4. Love Lost?

"Pinto!"

The girl in question turned at her husband's joyful call. Pinto was on her way to collect some bread from Scooch's bakery. Mumpo was running up to her with an enormous smile on his face.

"Oh Pinto," he gasped, "you'll never believe…"

He wrapped her in his big, strong arms.

Pinto laughed. If Mumpo was happy, she was happy. "What can possibly be so wonderful?" she asked.

"It's the most amazing thing!" exclaimed Mumpo. "Hanno and Bowman just told me!"

"Is it their secret? They've finally told someone?"

"Yes!"

By now, people had stopped to listen in on the conversation. Hanno and Bowman had been wearing small, secretive smiles for the past few days. The Manth people weren't ones to keep secrets. They all wanted to know what was going on.

No one on the path moved a muscle. Hanno Hath had not looked so happy for a very long time. The secret must be a good one. They held their breath.

"Well, what's the secret?" demanded Pinto bluntly.

"Honestly, Pinto today has become the most special day of my life. Even more special than our wedding day."

"Mumpo, you pocksicker, tell me what is going on right now! I _need _to know!"

Mumpo ignored the swearing. Coming from his little wife in her pale blue dress, it didn't sound particularly threatening.

"Alright, alright!" he laughed, as Pinto smacked his arm. "Kess is coming back!"

Pinto stood stock-still, completely shell-shocked.

"Back?" she repeated in a voice barely above a whisper. "Kess is _coming back_!" The realisation of what Mumpo had just said struck her with full force. She shrieked and hugged him. "But how?"

"Bowman said we'll find out this evening. But I know it has something to do with a ritual."

By now the crowd had dissipated, gone to spread the news. Pinto and Mumpo were alone.

They babbled to each other in happiness, still not quite able to believe it. After several minutes, Pinto, in a glow of happiness, said that she would bring home an extra loaf of bread.

"Alright," replied Mumpo, "and I'll go and set up a living arrangement for her somehow."

"But our house doesn't have a spare bedroom! And upon her return to the living, Kess is not about to sleep in a chair."

"Maybe you two can share the bedroom, and I'll sleep in a chair downstairs." suggested Mumpo.

"Or maybe not: I spent several years sleeping in the same bed as her, and trust me, she's a restless sleeper. I'm not about to repeat the experience, thankyou."

"Well, I'm always happy to share with her, you know."

"Ha-ha, very funny", replied Pinto sarcastically.

"Pardon? I wasn't making a joke."

"Whatever. I'll be seeing you in half an hour or so; we can set up something then."

"Sure. I'll see you soon then." Mumpo placed a gently kiss on the top of Pinto's head. "You remind me so much of her." He began the walk home.

Pinto continued walking towards Scooch's bakery, now with an extra loaf of bread to fetch. She felt blissfully happy. Kestrel was coming back!

However, shortly an uncomfortable niggling began at the back of her mind. Something still wasn't quite right. What was it?

Pinto's unhappiness began to grow as she realised what was bothering her. She recalled Mumpo and her discussing sleeping arrangements.

"_Well, I'm always happy to share with her, you know."_

"_Ha-ha, very funny."_

"_Pardon? I wasn't making a joke."_

She had thought he was joking. But he wasn't.

With a growing sense of dread, Pinto remembered Mumpo's feelings towards both her and Kestrel, before Kestrel's death.

"_You say you love me, Pinto. If you love me, you love Kestrel. Do you understand? Say another unkind word about Kestrel, and I'll never be your friend again." _

He had only married her because Kestrel had died. She, Pinto, was second best. And what had he said just after he had kissed her?

"_You remind me so much of her."_

Pinto pinched herself, as if wishing to snap out of a bad dream. What would happen between her and Mumpo if Kestrel came back?

And what had he said about their wedding, which had taken place but three days ago?

"_Honestly, Pinto today has become the most special day of my life. Even more special than our wedding day."_

Pinto struggled not to cry. Despite not having her mother's gift of sight, she felt that she could foresee what was coming.

"_Even more special than our wedding day."_

*****

**Oh, this is becoming pathetic. :P**

**REVIEW ALREADY!!!**


	5. Rituals at Midnight

**Wow…it has been such a long time since I updated! Oops. And you guys were nice enough to review too! 11 times! And I pay you back by not updating since…FEBRUARY?! Sheesh! **

**Aww, I feel bad now. I'm so sorry guys! Here is the fifth chapter in an attempt to make it up to you. It wasn't the most inspiring chapter to write, but meh, writing is always fun in some way or another :) Also, I think my writing has changed a fair bit since the beginning of the year. Re-reading previous chapters, I was like "Wow! That is so cheesy! :P :P". Well, for some of it anyway.**

**Now enough with the author note, before it becomes a chapter of its own, which will then be booed offstage to go and sulk in a corner due to its complete lack of plot and character development. **

*****

Bowman Hath looked up at the darkening sky. Night was falling, and the first stars had appeared, revealing constellations stretching outthroughspace further than the eye could see. The pale moon shone with the same brightness as Kestrel's eyes back when she was alive.

_I'll be with you again soon Bo! I'll make it to the homeland for real this time!_

Kestrel's disembodied voice ran through Bowman's head, needing no invitation.

Bowman allowed himself a smile. _Well, this ritual thing will have to work first, _he pointed out.

_How can it not work? _scoffed Kestrel. _It will work. I will _make_ it work. And anyway, we're in this together._

_Last time we were in something together…_ Bowman trailed off, and cast his eyes to the ground.

An unusual touch of softness entered Kestrel's voice. _Yes. I died, Bowman. I know. However, _she continued, brightening, _what more could possibly happen to me? There's nothing to lose by doing this hocus pocus stuff._

_You mean the ritual. _

_Yes, that, _replied Kestrel dismissively.

Hanno Hath leafed through the ancient, bloodstained book, squinting at the pages by the light of a candle. An apprehensive silence descended of the crowd that had gathered to witness Kestrel's return.

_Bo, _asked Kestrel suddenly.

_Yes…? _

_Can you hurry up?_

Bowman laughed out loud, drawing alarmed looks from some of the villagers. They clearly thought him mad, almost as if the ritual was affecting him, despite it having barely started.

_You always were impatient, _he commented. _But now is your time to wait. Listen with my ears and see with my eyes._

Kestrel grumbled a little before falling silent. Then she took Bowman's advice and look at his mind projections.

They were in the town square, and the cluster of buildings cast shadows on the cobblestones. Despite the pale moon and the stars dotting the sky, there was little light save for the candles, one held by each villager. Kestrel recognised many faces in the crowd, although some appeared older than she remembered. The thought was sobering as she realised that she had missed out on some of the biggest events in her friends' lives.

Hanno Hath stepped forward and faced Bowman. He moved slowly to the rocky memorial fountain that marked the centre of the village. Bowman was positioned in front of it, and the only sounds were its water gurgling and the chirping of crickets.

Unrolling an old scroll, Hanno began to speak in ancient Manth. He interrupted the monotone chant of the script occasionally to squint at certain words almost too faint to read.

The air grew colder around them, and the circle of candles placed on the fountain began to burn stronger.

"And so," concluded Hanno, "we ask of you this gift. Tie the life rope of our lost loved one, Kestrel, to her brother, Bowman, her anchor in this world. May she climb the rope and return to the land of the living. Let her come home."

The world was silent a moment, before a resonating _crack!_ reverberated round the square. The candles on the fountain extinguished suddenly, and the fountain itself split in two. Bowman collapsed to the ground and lay still as the clouds of dust settled.


End file.
